Demisanguine
by rizkang
Summary: Hermione Granger, the war heroine was killed after the war. It was three years ago since that unfortunate incident and her friends are just about to start to move on with their lives upon the closure of Hermione's case. Until Blaise Zabini, the head investigator of the case discovered a secret that is about to blow their lives.
1. PROLOGUE

Disclaimer:

I do not own Harry Potter, unfortunately. Every characters are owned and originated by JK Rowling. This is a post war fan-fiction.

I deeply apologize if there will be some grammatical errors. Any errors will be corrected in the future.

* * *

 **PROLOGUE**

 _Three Years Ago_

 _May 18, 1998_

 _Grimmauld Place_

Harry swore that the winds were definitely speaking.

It was nonetheless strange and angry. It was as if the strong winds were trying to get past his windows like Dementors hungry for a soul. They were raucous and violent, slamming and banging the place's multiple windows until some were fit as disrupted.

It won't let him slip to his most desired slumber after the long war battled with Voldemort. Harry was just biting his tongue to prevent himself from calling Kreacher or scream as if both will put an end to his misery. It is a pleasant night indeed to go with his paranoias. Bloody perfect, Ron would say.

He rolled over his bed and The Boy Who Lived unconsciously rubbed his scar for any signs of pain that really was not there anymore. It simply became a psychological pain that he was battling every single time he wonders if something might have gone wrong. Tom Riddle died. He saw it with his own eyes, when the battle of red and green combusted into a bright white light, dust and smoke surrounded them and a snake-like man clad in a black robe laid lifeless onto the ground. He knew the man had died, but it did not stop him from being paranoid in these kind of situations. It indeed includes a strange weather.

It continued on for hours. For a moment, he wished he should have asked Ron, Ginny or Hermione to stay with him: three people who were entitled to see his weakness.

A sudden sound of apparition saved Harry from his ongoing distraught. "M..Master." said Kreacher.

Harry jolted up and rubbed his eyes. It was just then when he had put on his glasses that he saw the state Kreacher was in. The poor house-elf looked troubled and shaking in fear. "Kreacher, what's wrong?" He started to feel anxious as well.

"Kreacher is here to inform Master that he is needed in the house of the Blo- Blood Traitors." The poor elf suddenly locked his eyes to the floor as if it found something interesting in the intricate patterns. "Kreacher is also here to inform.."

"Kreacher, do not address my friends as Blood Traitors _again_." Harry reprimanded and the eyes of his house elf was on him once again. He did not like it in anyway, as the eyes that met his were uncertain and scared. It was far from the stern and hostile stares Kreacher bestowed onto him on his first stay in Grimmauld Place. "Now, I am not liking this. Inform me of what exactly, Kreacher?"

"Kreacher is also here to inform that Master's friend Hermione Granger is dead."


	2. Chapter 1 - Yellow Notes

Disclaimer:

I do not own Harry Potter, unfortunately. Every characters are owned and originated by JK Rowling. This is a post war fan-fiction.

I deeply apologize if there will be some grammatical errors. Any errors will be corrected in the future.

* * *

 **CHAPTER 1 – Yellow Notes**

 _ **May 15, 2001**_

Tuesdays were supposed to be as hectic as Mondays in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, but there is always an exception. Surprisingly, there were a few notes flying and stopping on top of Harry Potter's humble mahogany desk, just above his head, and he found some of it unimportant. Either the Investigation Department was just sending him a follow up or asking for some files that they need.

Ronald, his best mate had yet to speak a word since he came to his office this morning. The man just sat in the chair across from him while he stares at the board full of almost fading photos and scribbles about the evidences of Hermione's death almost three years ago. He's been like that up until now.

Harry decided to break the silence as it is already approaching lunch time, and despite the misery he shares with his best mate, they have to fill themselves and live on. He piled the documents to be sent to the Investigation Department on the side of his table. "Eventually, you will burn a hole on that board." He said.

Ron smiled. _Ah, so he can still talk._ "Harry, I just can't believe, that it was about to be finished." Suddenly, Ron's smile has dropped. "I... she..she's about to get her justice."

"Soon." Harry reassured Ron and himself. "Soon, Ron."

It was three weeks ago, that the department has been in utter chaos at the capture of the last remaining Death Eater on the loose, Mulciber and Avery. They found the two, organizing a hopeless anti-muggle born group in a small cottage in the deep forest in Wales. Fortunately, the group has only four unwilling members, that they also had captured for further interrogation.

The thorough search for the Death Eaters on the loose began three years back after the death of Hermione Granger. When Hermione was still alive and with them, the search had been slow and lenient. The wizarding world was still in their high spirits after the defeat of Voldemort that the fact that there were still dangerous dark wizards lurking around had slipped away from their mind, until of course the death of the war heroine. The Boy Who Lived did not take this well, and directed his anger and sorrow to the Ministry who, even if was on a reform were doing a lacking job or perhaps not doing anything at all.

"Do you.. do you think they did it?" Ron asked.

He sighed. Yeah, does he? Does he really think Mulciber and Avery did it? It was not certain as to the other captured were adamantly denying the crime. Sure, they did capture the remaining two, but did it mean they were the ones who did it? "They were all captured, Ron. Nothing is certain, but if we have them all, then we have _him_. We have them who had killed Hermione."

"Well? That's... a total bollock, don't you think?" Ron chuckled. He remained silent knowing that the next thing he will hear is Ron's outburst, and used this to ponder over Ron's thoughts. It was all rubbish. Even if all of the Death Eaters were rounded up, this case of Hermione Granger will never end until someone has admitted to the crime.

A slam on his table drove him back to the reality. He raised his stare to his best mate. Ron is angry, and so is he. "Then this is not justice, Harry! She's not getting the justice she ever so deserves! We have to know who it is! It's not enough that we have them all!

"We have to know. We have to know, so we can make them pay for it. We have to know so we can move forward. I'm not getting any far from this, Harry. I'm still here in this place where I was three years ago." Ron is shaking with his head down and crying. Harry rubbed his face with both of his palms. Might as well forget having lunch and go home early, maybe a few drinks at the Burrow with George and Ron help him with his frustrations.

"I'm barely keeping up, mate." He admitted.

The weight on losing Hermione Granger was too much to bear for Harry. He thinks maybe if not the same as with Ron's, a little too much. When the news was delivered to him by Kreacher that one stormy night May 1998, Harry did not go immediately to the Burrow. He did not, despite the urgent request from the Weasley family. He laughed, a bloody well long one. Kreacher almost thought that its master was actually celebrating the unfortunate news. Oh no, he did not.

He laughed because of the irony of it all. Just when he thought that everything will start to be alright, something brought his hopes crashing downhill. He started questioning his sanity as well, maybe these things were all product of his complex imagination inside his cupboard at the Dursley's. There was no way such unhappiness was possible! Then he started thinking or maybe it is possible and a soul's reincarnation is also a fact and not just a belief. Maybe Harry Potter did things evil in his past life, that now he was being punished.

Gods! He could not understand why this was all happening to him. He lost a lot of people, and even after the death of his greatest nemesis, Harry still has the ability to crush all the things he touches. Hermione Granger was his most delicate flower. Merlin, help him but the feelings he decided to bury a long time ago came pouring over him, when Kreacher said she had died. He thought it faded.

So the decision to appear at the Burrow was made four days after at the funeral of the Wizarding World's Heroine. For three days he did not want to share his pain, for three days he did not want people say 'we understand' when they do not, for three days he wanted the mourning just for himself and himself alone. Ron could not help him. Who would help a pathetic man pining for your dead lover, even if the said pathetic man is your best friend? A complete idiot would, and Ronald Weasley is not a complete idiot.

The funeral was not grand. No, their Hermione would not want anything grand, but there were so many people. Tears and condolences were pouring from their friends, almost acquaintances and even from the ex-Death Eaters who ran before the final battle. Harry figured out that maybe they would want this event to wash their conscience and guilt of their sins, he despised the reason and found himself glaring if not sneering at some of the attendees.

The urn was brought from the Burrow to Hogwarts. Hermione's family, after regaining their obliviated memories decided to bury the urn of their beloved daughter in her second home. Headmaster McGonagall and Hagrid made it possible to prepare a small tomb near the school's lake. The school was still in its ruined state, but despite that a lot of people came to offer their sympathies: students of Hogwarts, some students from Durmstrang and Beauxbaton, ministry officials, friends, some people from Diagon Alley and Hogsmeade, the Order members- if not dead were all injured, but still present, ex-Death Eater families who flew before the final battle – Nott and Malfoy, who excluded their heirs in attendance.

Along with her urn, broken wand, Dumbledore's copy of The Tales of Beedle the Bard and letters from her friends, Harry knew it was also the perfect time to bury whatever unrequited feelings he had for his bestfriend, but he swore to never stop chasing the justice for her until his last breath, if not to avenge her which she would not like, at least a justice. No matter how much he wanted to end his life to save those people who would likely to be the next people that he breaks, he found one reason to keep him going- He'd want to know who, he'd want to know why and until the culprit was in his hands, nobody can stop the Boy-who-lived.

A yellow note stopped on top of Harry's head, which he ignored. "Say, what do you think? Let's talk this over at the Burrow? Perhaps, see if Ginny and Molly prepared something for Hermione's commemoration?

"With Firewhiskey, of course." Harry added. Ron nodded slowly and wiped his tears.

"Sure. I'll just tell George, I'll go home early today." Ron noticed the waiting note on top of Harry's head. "Aren't you going to read that?" He pointed out.

"That can wait. I'm sure it's just Zabini. Some things of unimportance, maybe." Harry arranged his desk once more and grabbed the note over his head. He placed it on top of his desk unread, and had put a paperweight to prevent it from flying back to Zabini. The last thing he would like to get the next day was Zabini knocking furiously on his door and savage the documented evidences neatly stacked beside his table.

While looking over his office, Ron called George through the floo and advised him of his plan for the rest of the day. George agreed, and decided to take the half of the day off and close the Joke shop for the remaining hours.

"George is coming." Ron told him.

"I guess; I'll call it a day. I will just inform Seamus next door."

After having Seamus's reassurance to keep Blaise's nose away from Harry's office, Harry closed the lights and did not notice the yellow note he left on his desk that was wriggling out of the paperweight.

And a yellow note that was wriggling is anything but _unimportant._

* * *

It took Blaise Zabini five yellow notes and one red howler flying back to his desk to lose his calm. Screw, departmental ranks, but he needed Potter right now. He knocked furiously on his door, until Finnigan decided that his unwanted presence was needed.

"Zabini." He greeted and sat himself on a chair in the department's small meeting room.

Blaise tried to calm himself, but found it impossible. In shaking voice, he said: "Where is Potter?"

"Off. Honestly, give him a break." Seamus calmly said as if not sensing the dangers an aggravated Blaise Zabini might impose.

 _Off. Off? Bloody off!_ "Off?" Blaise repeated.

"I was not aware that Harry Potter is entitled an off, whereas the Investigator-in-charge of his friend's case cannot even have one day to fuck the lights off of her girlfriend!" Blaise screamed and Seamus cringed at the mental image.

"Yes! I haven't seen Luna for Merlin knows how long for this case, and now it's not getting any better, I refuse to fucking close the case! Tell Potter to get his priorities in line!" He screamed and realized that the Irish was not making any move to tell the Boy-who-just-won't-fucking-die that his presence was needed at the Ministry. He just gaped at him like a bloody idiot, not that he is otherwise.

The idiot tried to speak a word, closed his mouth, but decided to take on instead. "What do you mean, that the case cannot be closed? Mulciber and Avery were caught. They were the last Death Eaters on the loose."

 _Wonderful_ , now Blaise cannot remember how the confidential words slipped out of his mouth. Well, his anger was the one speaking and not him. He was so angry at being ignored, when there was something so important to talk about. He was so angry at thinking that the case will finally be put to an end with the capture of the last two Death Eaters, when it was just the bloody start of everything. To say that he was so frustrated is a total understatement.

He surveyed the area, checked the other doors of the Aurors with his eyes. Seamus seemed to pick his worry up and reassured him that the other Auror's were out for their small missions. "Listen here, Finnigan. Nothing shall come out from this room, you hear me?"

"Wary of a Gryffindor's loyalty, are we Zabini?" Seamus chuckled. "I am aware, of course."

"I have ways of knowing." Blaise sat down, clenching and unclenching his hands. He closed his eyes, and sighed. _This one here cares for Granger; therefore, he can be trusted_. As he opened his eyes, Seamus found it already calm.

"Hang on. You're really going to tell me about it." Seamus said. _Thanks for stating the obvious, dolt._ "I guess Harry and Ron should be here too."

"Then I don't know why you were not calling them earlier, but yes, Finnigan, they need to be here. I do not have all the time of the day to explain what I have found." As if scared for another one of Blaise's outburst, Seamus immediately called Harry through the Floo.

Blaise took this short moment to pause and reflect. Ever since he started his career in the Investigation Department not long after the end of the war, the case has been assigned to him.

His reflection was short, all spent in a big box of regrets on all the things he should have seen even from the start of the investigation. The inconsistencies of the evidences against Mulciber and Avery were all screaming for attention, but it did not get any. Instead, they were lead to believe- really believe that the two were guilty, and missed some points in the investigation.

The conversation in the floo became heated. Seamus was struggling to explain how both people are needed right now. He had heard Harry mutter something about 'not being able to keep Zabini's not so handsome nose out of his office. ' He was struggling to correct the Boy-who-won't-fucking-die and tell him he is yet to crash his office door. Then, Weasley appeared. Blaise snorted at the sight of Weasley's face on the fire. He never thought he would have such dislike in a face, whether it may be in person or in floo, this, a sentiment he shares with Draco.

 _Speaking of the evil, I have to owl him about his Bachelor's Party. Oh well, everything seems complete according to Theo-_

"You told us we're needed, when he was just sitting here daydreaming." Harry commented breaking his little cloud of reverie. Ron standing inches behind him.

"Ah, finally. Potter has decided it is about time to grace us his presence." Blaise stood up and clasped his hands together. Ron sneered, and it made Blaise's mood a little bit brighter. The satisfaction in pissing Gryffindors never gets old. "Have a seat."

"I'm sure it can be delivered while stand-" Whatever Ron was about to say was interrupted by the sound of a fist banging on the table. It was Seamus's.

"Sit." He firmly said losing the sarcastic composure he has while welcoming Blaise. Harry and Ron looked at Seamus strangely as if searching for anything that was wrong with their friend. Unfortunately for them, Seamus is their friend, but the git can be very Professional at times. They took their seats across Seamus.

Blaise shrugged as if saying suit yourself, but really he was thinking 'sticking your ass down the chair is that easy, isn't it?'. He paced for a short while thinking of ways to explain it to the men who will now have the knowledge that only he has. He then pointed his wand at a plain white wall, as it projects what seemed to be a documentation of evidences against the last two Death Eaters on the loose.

"What is this? I've had this." Harry said and stood up. Seamus eyed him and mouthed a harsh 'sit down!'

"First of all, Potter, did you read the note I sent this morning?" Blaise asked. His back turned from them. Hearing no response, he turned around and crossed his arms against his chest. Harry narrowed his eyes at him, trying to decipher which note is he talking about. "The note, Potter. A yellow paper folded and enchanted to fly to you and stay at the top of your desk. It is also enchanted to go back to me, if you happen to ignore it.

"So did you or did you not see it?" He asked, raising his voice a little to impose the importance of the note.

"No." Harry said. "It did not come back to you, because I got it in my hands and left it on my desk, so I can read it tomorrow."

"Of course." Blaise bit sarcastically.

"Get straight to the point, Zabini and stop reprimanding me - who may I remind you an Auror over a note that I am certain can wait until tomorrow." Ron chuckled at that, and no, Blaise did not find it amusing at all. In fact, it did start a headache in his already pounding head.

Who is this guy slapping his position in his face? Blaise Zabini, a prejudiced Slytherin and an accomplished student earned his position at the Ministry as a Magical Crime Investigator for three bloody years without help and hypocritical recommendations from anyone, because they cannot provide him any real one due to their perception of his house! Who is this guy to slap a position given to him, just because he is a Gryffindor and saved a Wizarding world? That was hardly earned! Blaise was not angry anymore. Merlin help him, he was beyond livid!

"Potter, being an Auror has limits and privileges. Don't mistake yourself between the two. You are not privileged to go leave your post without any valid reason - drinking yourself to celebrate the closure of your friend's case is hardly a valid reason, Potter. You are limited to slapping your position to your colleagues, but not to mine. I earned my position, Potter. I am not under your department, so shove your Auror sentiments up your ass. We _are_ on the same page, Potter.

"And oh, just before we begin, I would like to tell you that this Blaise Zabini, Magical Crime Investigator, Head of the Investigating Team of Case Number 51893: Murder of Hermione Jean Granger refuses to close the case, so I suggest to keep the celebrations off your schedules, and put your priorities in line."

"What?" Ron stood up. "What do you mean, you refuse to close the case?"

"You heard me, Weasley." Blaise said slamming his palm on the table. He vented out all his anger onto the table that it shook and the three felt like their skin was jumping out of their body.

"So Mulciber and Avery are innocent of killing Hermione? Who, then? Do you have any other suspects? A friend? A muggle could hardly snap her wand and burn her body, so maybe it was a wizard or a witch? Maybe, some ex- Death Eaters? Malfoy? It must be one of them!" Ron continued to talk. Harry pulled him down to his seat and patted the red-head's shoulder as if calming him. The man was actually shaking.

"What do you mean the case cannot be closed, Zabini?" Harry asked, almost pleading. He could not help, but feel sympathy for the two. After all, he got to know Hermione Granger through this case and knew that the girl was a real gem when she was alive. She was so loved, well respected, and it was so hard for him to suspect anyone to do this to her.

"I am afraid that the capture of the last two Death Eaters on the loose only opened the case in a wider aspect, Potter." He turned again to look at the report flashed on the wall.

"What do you mean?" Harry asked. The three men tensed and stared at the report intently.

"We did the same tests we conducted with the other captured Death-Eaters and even Ex-Death Eaters to gain more evidence from Mulciber and Avery. Here is the compilation of the evidences against them.

"According to the members of their anti-muggle wizard group, they were with Mulciber and Avery since May 1998. May 5, 1998 to be exact, three days after the end of the Second Wizarding War. Both were wounded and brought to Wales, by one member - Julius Morgan. They were healed and nurtured back to health some days after being brought by a small wizarding community in the forest of Wales. They deceived them by hiding behind the names of Anthony Hopkins and Dillard Price, both wizards from southern Wales who were battered beyond recognition by muggles.

"There are nights, according to Julius, Mulciber and Avery will have the faintest discussion at their kitchen in the dark. When asked, they'd claim that they are just discussing how they miss their family and how muggles tortured their families to death. Those caused some people to become wary of muggles and join their little anti-muggle campaign."

"Bloody liars. Manipulative pieces of wench." Ron mumbled, his fist crumpling his pants tightly.

"One time, the two went out of their small community. Volunteered to deliver woods to a Broomstick manufacturer in London. What date? May 17, 1998, a day before Hermione's murder. Both of them came back May 20, 1998, exceptionally giddy, but muddy. They were supposed to come back May 18, 1998. It caused several residents in the small community to worry, but Julius did not interrogate them anymore upon their late arrival. He remembered Mulciber being temperamental whenever he was asked. These statements from Julius was tested through Verisaterum and over a pensieve. The other three members were tested as well.

"The dates of them being away from the village supports their association in the crime. They had the day to deliver the woods, had the night to plan the crime, had the next day to execute it. Sounds pretty perfect, yes?

The three nodded. "I believe I received the documents for the first part of the investigation yesterday. Is this included?" Harry asked, mentally noting to skim the documents after this meeting.

"Yes." Blaise said and paced, a habit incorporated with his concentration. His Slytherin classmates got used to it when they were at Hogwarts and advised him to refrain from going to the Library and doing the same thing under Madam Pince's nose.

"But there was one detail that did not match with Mulciber and Avery's story to Julius's. Julius asked them to get something from the Manager of the Broomstick Manufacturer, Mr. Hughes. A potion ingredient very ancient which Julius admitted was to be added to his 'ole trinkets' at home. May 17th, Julius had to make sure that the both of them got it, and owled them. They answered, yes. When they got home on the 20th, they did not bring anything, but the money from the woods. Julius asked them for it, Mulciber told him he forgot. They were asked to verify the errand. Both said Julius did not ask them to get it. Mulciber and Avery was also tested through Verisaterum and a Pensieve. This was the missing detail.

"Either they forgot or someone modified their memories." He concluded.

Seamus rubbed both of his palms together. The tension in the room was too thick. "But surely, you are aware that this is not enough. I mean it is very possible that they really did forget. Maybe the memory is missing because they really forgot, they are hardly teenagers anymore. Their memories are not that sharp, who knows the amount of Cruciatus curse they received from Voldemort. We cannot use this Zabini."

"This, we cannot use. However, the other inconsistencies are telling me otherwise." Zabini stopped pacing and bore his chocolate orbs to green ones.

"The second part of the investigation includes the wand test, the history of its usage which we are yet to submit to Potter." Green eyes narrowed at this.

"And?" Harry asked.

"Mulciber did cast a Killing curse on May 18, 1998. A strong evidence we can use against them, really. The case might be even closed, because of this. Avery, on the other hand, did cast an Incendio – a very strong one at that, and the memory modification charm on the same day. I just got the results today." At this, the tension seemed to grow thicker, and the men in the room were all sweating.

Ron chuckled and sighed in defeat. "So this memory modification charm from Avery changes everything." His shoulders fell and shook.

"And why would Avery cast a memory modification spell on Mulciber?" Seamus asked.

"That, Finnigan is what we do not know. I reviewed Avery's memory of that day through a pensieve again. There, screaming like a mad banshee is the moment he did a memory charm on Mulciber. It was overlooked on the first part of the investigation. However, there are _major_ inconsistencies.

"In the memory, Avery pulled Granger's hair and dragged the battered, and struggling body through the grass. It was after they snapped her wand."

"But 'Mione would have the situation on her hands. Even if without a wand, she's fair with non-verbal spells." Harry stated as a matter of fact.

Blaise nodded as if entertaining the idea. "Save that idea, Potter.

"So Granger was battered beyond recognition, I thought maybe her state hindered her ability to cast any spell non-verbally that time. However, if your idea stands a chance, Potter, it can be used. Granger, the strong woman that she was, mustered an effort to claw her hand onto Avery's. That moment, Avery took notice of a watch on Hermione's wrist. 11:35 in the evening.

"According to the wand tests, curses from Mulciber and Avery took place at between 6 to 8 in the evening. The dried blood scattered in the grass was there for approximately six to seven hours upon discovery, which leads us back to 6 to 8 in the evening." Blaise finished. The documents flashed on the white wall was removed.

"You mean to say-" Harry hesitated, but it seemed that the three of them already knew the next thing to come out from Blaise.

"Whoever modified Avery's memory did a shite job at that." Blaise said.

Ron continued shaking and containing his sobs. Blaise couldn't take it from him, the man thought or better yet, hoped that the case will finally be over and the justice for her girlfriend will be attained.

Seamus remained quiet, tracing patterns on the mahogany desk, unsure of what to say.

It was Potter who looked determined more than ever. A spark very familiar clouded his Green orbs, the same spark Blaise saw at the final Battle when he was about to face Voldemort.

"Then, let us not close the case." Announced The Boy-Who-Lived.


	3. Chapter 2 - Blaise's New Mantra

Disclaimer:

I do not own Harry Potter, unfortunately. Every characters are owned and originated by JK Rowling. This is a post war fan-fiction.

I deeply apologize if there will be some grammatical errors. Any errors will be corrected in the future.

* * *

 **Chapter II – Blaise's New Mantra**

 **May 17, 2001**

 **Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry**

Blaise Zabini took the feeling of a warm, relaxing and steaming bath for granted, ever since his school days at Hogwarts. He was used to the cold and chill of the Slytherin dungeon for seven years, that he never felt the need of warmth anymore. A quick shower would always suffice for it never leaves the cool, and still provides some taste of heat – if that makes sense.

Until of course, Luna told him that a warm and steaming bath would be good for him to relax his nerves, last night. Merlin, who knew it would be so good? He'd even trade their estate just to have Luna in the tub with him. He told himself to suggest it to Luna next time: a warm, relaxing, steaming bath with your hot innocent girl-

"Mr. Zabini." A clipped voice shook him up from his little fantasy. McGonagall was standing behind her chair regally, both hands clasped in a very intimidating manner. "To what do I owe the pleasure?" she asked. The corners of her mouth lifting in what like a small smile.

"Headmistress.," he greeted and made a small bow of courtesy. Ever the gentleman. He felt McGonagall left her position and walked around him as if studying him. He lifted his head and she stopped.

"Well, all I can say is that I am so proud of what you've become, young man." She said and Blaise's heart swell. Never in his life, he thought he'd live to see the day. "I believe you are here for business as Harry Potter had mentioned in his letter."

"Yes." He said and watched the Headmistress walk back to her desk to sit on her chair.

McGonagall was very much like Snape, Blaise had noticed. Her desk was never in disarray, and remained organized. Stacks of documents were piled on her left in a very neat manner that he wonders how often does the Headmistress check these documents. A small cat figurine was situated beside her bottle of ink, a replica of a time-turner; which doesn't really move, and a small ball of maps which Zabini knew from Muggle Studies as a Globe.

"Potter and I have decided that Hermione Granger's case is still far from being closed." He said, and saw a brief disbelief in McGonagall's eyes. "As her closest mentor, I believe you should know."

"Oh dear." was all she could say. Her mouth slightly agape from shock. "You mean Mulciber and Avery weren't the ones who did it?"

"I am afraid, if their memory was altered as the other evidences show, they might not be the culprit." He said. McGonagall lowered her gaze at her desk, pondering the new information given to her. _And anyone might be._

Blaise took it as a perfect time to study the school's Headmistress. He knows it is impossible, but then again he reminded himself of his new mantra: _Anyone might be._ He refused to discuss this plan Hermione's closest friends, but convinced them that he just need a lot more information about the girl. He needed to know her enemies, he needed to know her friends, he needed to know her family. This would benefit him bigtime, it's like hitting two birds with one stone. He gets to know the victim and he gets to investigate. Simple.

But there was one thing he is certain of, if and only if it will be proven that Mulciber and Avery are a hundred percent innocent: A Death Eater did not do this.

So he took it in himself to know who. He took it in himself to be the only one to know, that every single one of them now is a possible suspect. He would not divulge this assumption to anyone, who if given certain awareness would probably make it more impossible for him to gain knowledge. He is a Slytherin through and through.

Mentally, he took note of the brief disbelief he believed he saw in Minerva McGonagall's eyes. It was brief - a momentarily flash of shock and it was gone. A more evident reaction followed it, a believable one he figured. He'll keep it to study later.

"How may I be of help, Mr. Zabini?" She asked, her eyes determined. "How can the school be of help?"

"I would just like to know more about Hermione Granger." He said. "It seems that the information I have before was never enough. I want to know everyone who are acquainted to her."

The Headmistress nodded and released a deep sigh. "Feel free to get the information you needed from this school. Hermione was a remarkable student, and all her deeds with two friends cannot easily be forgotten. Please."

"Would there be any limitations?" he asked. The Headmistress just smiled, her back regaining its rigid posture again.

"You are cunning, Mr. Zabini. Even if I put certain limitations to your investigation, I believe you would still find a way through it. However, please do this professionally. I will definitely not condone it, if I hear you threaten your way to your answers." She said, the clip in her tone was back.

"Thank you, Headmistress." He bent himself into a small bow again, and his eyes found a sneering portrait on top of McGonagall's desk. _Ah, some things never change._

'I know why you are here.' The portrait mouthed. He never thought he'd see that familiar sneer of Severus Snape again.

Out of the gargoyle, he went. McGonagall gave him the basic information he'd most likely to obtain from her; Granger's school records- grades, schedules, merits, Prefect patrol schedules and school violations. It would take a great deal of his time to plot everything in accordance to her records. It was too much and was so loaded. How the witch got through all of these subjects was beyond his imagination.

He was about to go home and prepare his night with his friends, when he remembered something he forgot to obtain. Granger was a glutton for knowledge, and of course, she'd spend a lot of time in the library.

"Madam Pince." He greeted.

The witch with a hooked nose, small pointy and pale face turned around to reprimand him for having the audacity to make noise by addressing her in the library. _Some things never really change._ Blaise was surprised that instead of making an unpleasant comment, Madam Pince's lips turned upwards into a smile.

Back in his school years, Blaise never saw Madam Pince smile on students other than her obvious favor on Granger, the school's beloved bookworm. He guessed that he'd be counted as lucky now, he ever received one. He'd remember to boast it to Draco later.

"Ah. The boy who was always pacing, what a man you've become." She greeted and lead Blaise to the way outside the library.

Before they went out, she turned around to the whispering students and gave them a stern look. "The rules still apply after I stepped out of this library. There are eyes around the area, you may not be seeing." She warned.

Blaise found it creepy.

"I won't say I was surprised of your presence, but I am surprised I was not the one you visited first to get the library records of Ms. Granger." She said. "McGonagall told everyone about it."

 _Okay, that sounds creepy._ He wondered when did McGonagall find the time to get the news to the Professors. "Don't look shocked. We still use Patronus charms." She said.

 _That sounds creepier!_ Blaise swore the librarian is a Legilimens! "I am a Legilimens, Mr. Zabini. I'd appreciate if you stop thinking like It's horrible."

"I apologize, Madam. I was just wondering, I mean I've never seen you get into battle before, and to know you're a Legilimens-" He said shaking his head.

Madam Pince chuckled. "But who did? Only Hermione knows. She was a close student to me. No one ever bothered to talk to me, thinking I'm an old snoot who doesn't know how to socialize."

Blaise made sure to lock his thoughts away.

"You locked your tho-" she was about to comment when a swift swoosh came at them like someone just went their way.

"Now, Professor Binns." She addressed the ghost. "Why are you running in this side of the castle? You are in front of the library." She reprimanded. Blaise watched the interesting exchange. The ghost professor stopped and looked at his shoes. He couldn't see any color in him, but he assumed that the ghost was blushing.

 _I'll definitely tell this to Draco._ He chuckled. "Hello, Professor Binns." Zabini greeted. That was the time the ghost noticed his presence. He smiled.

"One of the Slytherin's brightest! Hello!" It said, then suddenly diverted his attention to Madam Pince. "I'm sorry, Irma. I swear my feet hardly made any noise. I float."

"But of course." Madam Pince acknowledged it and stared at the missing legs of Professor Binns. "It is still rude." She added.

"I apologize." He repeated. "I believe you are here with McGonagall's permission." He addressed Blaise. The former Slytherin nodded.

"Well, if you need anything from me. You can drop by at the History Classroom. I have the records of my students way-way before. The grades, essays, assignments even assignment partners. Anything to help Ms. Grant's case."

"Granger. Ms. Granger, Professor Binns." Madam Pince corrected.

"Right. See you around!" and the ghost swooshed again.

"He never gets it right." She shook her head, and pulled some parchment from her robe. She tapped her wand on it, and there appeared Hermione Granger's Library records. "Here, Mr. Zabini."

"Wow, the girl could read." _Hell. This is almost a record of all the Slytherins combined!_

"Library is Ms. Granger's most favorite place. Placing her tomb near the lake was beyond my comprehension, but then again who would bury someone in the library?" she chuckled. "I guess I have to go back now."

"Thank you, Madam Pince." He said offering the same courtesy to the Librarian, before walking away.

"And oh, Mr. Zabini." At that he stopped. "I know you are considering everyone as a possible suspect right now, it doesn't take Legilimency to know that. I would just like for you to know that I am willing to participate in your investigation. You need not to analyze me inside your mind."

With that, she left.

Bloody hell, he swore the witch gave him goosebumps.

* * *

 **Zabini's Estate**

Four minutes, he counted.

Theo and Draco were late. Four minutes has passed after eight and neither was showing up. He was certain, they all preferred this day to catch up with one another. With both of his friends getting married soon and him all busy with Hermione Granger's case, they hardly had the free time like this.

The sound of the floo in his library told him that one of them already arrived. He fished his wand from his pocket and pointed it on the unsuspecting figure. "Alarte Ascendare!"

The figure docked down and pointed his wand onto him "Densaugeo!"

"Protego!" He casted.

"Blaise, what the hell!" Draco screamed as his blonde guest flopped into his couch.

He slipped his wand back to his pocket, and stood up to make Draco a drink. "You're late."

"When were we even early?" The blonde asked. Again, he heard the arrival of someone at the floo. "Trouble in paradise?"

"Fuck off." Blaise said Accio-ing another glass from his bar.

"Hey, Draco." He heard Theo. The git just announced his arrival. Before he could hex him, Draco beat him into warning their friend. "Mate, if I were you I won't cross that boundary. He fucking hexed me upon my arrival."

"That was a charm, Draco. Honestly, were you even present at Flitwick's class?" Blaise said walking back to the living setting to hand them their drinks. Theo got his and sat on the couch opposite of Draco.

"Hey! This is favoritism. Look at you, Theo came unscathed!" The blonde whined.

Blaise sighed and threw him a small pillow. "I swear, Draco if you don't stop whin-"

Theo laughed. Pretty hard. He was pointing at Draco, and Blaise finally realized what the git was laughing about.

Draco Malfoy, the Draco Malfoy came in his silk green pajamas and white plaid shirt. His divine blond hair, which was now slightly long enough to cover his eyes were tied upwards in what seem like a hair tie. He still looked regal, but ridiculous.

"Bloody hell, who are you? What did you do to Draco?" Blaise said before completely giving in to Theo's laughter. He laughed. Hard.

Draco took it as his chance to make his companions sneeze. Pretty childish come back, but oh well, it would suffice. "Mucus ad Nauseum." The laughter was replaced by sneezes. "There, sounds better. Anyway, Astoria wished for my hair to be slightly long on our union. Merlin, the witch surely has this fetish for lengthy mane."

"Fuck you, mate." Theo said and earned a smug from Draco. "You wish."

"Sounding more and more like, Potter, now. Are we, Draco?" Theo commented and he felt triumphant at the glare he earned from Draco.

Blaise stopped sneezing, and glared at Theo as well. Merlin, he needed one night to forget everything. "Don't bring the git's name in this." And gulped his Firewhiskey in one go.

"What got your knickers on a twist, mate?" Draco asked sipping half of his drink.

"Potter and I decided to _not_ close Granger's case." He said. Theo leaned on his elbows, a gesture Blaise know that he wants a further explanation. _Merlin, what happened to letting this go for one night?_

"Hmm." Was all Draco could say as he drank what's remaining of his glass in one go, his eyes narrowed at Blaise.

"Isn't that supposed to end with Mulciber and Avery being caught?" Theo tentatively asked, perhaps testing the waters if Blaise wanted to continue this discussion. Unfortunately, Blaise forgot his aim of not tackling this over.

"Supposedly, but the evidences are leading us to a complete different approach." He admitted. Draco nodded and proceeded to the bar to get more of the Firewhiskey. He accio-ed Blaise's as well for re-fill.

"Ho-ho. And that is?" Theo prodded.

"We can't tell what it is now. We are still not certain." Blaise answered. _Anyone might be._ It sounded almost like a prayer to his ears. He can't divulge any more of this to his friends. Yes, they were his most trusted friends, but yet again: _Anyone might be._ "You know what, let's just drop this. It's already consuming me enough. Merlin, I can't even have a date with Luna."

"How touching it is that you have time with us, when you can't have time for your girlfriend." mocked Draco, who he'd almost forgot the presence a while ago.

"Ha-ha. Not funny, Drake."

The three of them diverted their conversations in more interesting subjects. Theo, about Daphne, then his newly found fascination in brooms and muggle literature; Draco and his approaching marriage with Astoria, then his father's condition in Azkaban and Blaise's visit at Hogwarts and plans of settlement with Luna.

In the middle of Blaise's discussion, Theo had given up completely to his slumber. He was a drunk mess, as he'd always been whenever they catch up.

"Mate, I cannot put how lucky I am with having Luna into words. I'm scared that with all of these happening, one day she'll just give up waiting. Merlin." Blaise said, voice drawling in drunkenness.

"I'm pretty sure Loony's going to understand. Just give her the proper explanation, mate." Draco said, he noticed that his friend was also barely hanging on to consciousness. He failed to count the number of bottles they had consumed.

"If.. If I'm just in condition. I would have hexed you for.. calling her.. that name." Blaise made sure to point it out again on Draco. "I hope she will still listen to..me. I mean… how long will she still have to..wait. I have to start.. start with Granger's case all over.. again."

A few silence. "That's diffic-ult, mate. Why start again, when you told us last time- time, that… Granger's case is almost finished."

"Hah. Fucking finished, my ass. Mulciber and Avery's mind were altered, mate. There… there's a high possibility that… the killer is still out there or… fucking worst case scenario is that Grang –"

"Blaise, don't die on me." Draco cried out, when Blaise stopped speaking.

"Bloody hell, of course not. 'Know what. I'll just go throw this up." Blaise stood up and went to the adjoining washroom. He could feel Draco watching his retreating back, and made sure to make fun of his friend after his loo time.

 _What a clingy bastard._

Blaise felt his bile rising to his throat and released his dinner on the toilet bowl. _Look at that, this what the case made me, a mess._ He chuckled at that. _Funny._ Suddenly his lips devoid of color went back to its original pink as a realization dawned back at him. _Bloody hell, what did I just tell Draco._ He berated himself, and ran limply back to his companions.

Theo and Draco was so drunk, both fell asleep on his couch. Theo's position was still planked, his neck twisted to his left to make him able to breathe. Blaise was sure, this will make the neck of his friend stiff form aching the next morning. His eyes seek his blonde friend, the man was lying flat facing the wide ceiling of his library, neck twisted to his right, mouth slightly agape from snoring. His one hand was limp on his side, while the other was holding a book. He didn't realize Draco came with a book.

He chuckled at himself, and Accio-ed his only and ancient camera from his desk. He took a picture of his friends and laughed at the finished photograph. He'll make sure to show this on Draco's wedding with Astoria and Theo's wedding with Daphne. Two snob pureblood sleeping without their grace on his couch. He kept the photograph in one of his drawers, and went back to fix both of his friend's position.

He levitated Theo and made him lay facing the ceiling, just like Draco. A pillow was now cushioned under his neck.

There was nothing to fix with Draco, only that, his book might be heavy and he pulled it out from his hand. He Accio-ed another pillow and cushioned it under Draco's neck. _Long hair, huh? I'm surprised Astoria didn't pick Lucius instead._ Then he thought of his carelessness and what he had told Draco about Granger's case. He sighed. Next time, he'll have it in him not to get drunk again. He put it in mind to ask Draco about it the next day. _Even if he knows, he hardly cares. He loathes Granger. You know he did not do it. What is there to lose?_ Still he has to ask.

Going back to his couch, he felt the heaviness of something he was holding. _Oh right, Draco's book._ He placed it on the night stand, and carefully traced the title with his fingertips. He's getting sleepy. Alcohol is never good.

The last thing he had in mind was the title of the book as he finished feeling the letters on his fingertips.

"A Life without Magic by Jane Grant"

* * *

End of chapter 2! How do you guys find it? You may place a comment. I'll appreciate it. Thank you!


	4. Chapter 3 - Six Teacups

Disclaimer:

I do not own Harry Potter, unfortunately. Every characters are owned and originated by JK Rowling. This is a post war fan-fiction.

I deeply apologize if there will be some grammatical errors. Any errors will be corrected in the future.

* * *

 **Chapter III - Six Teacups**

 **May 20, 2001**

 **Investigation Department, Ministry of Magic**

 _This_ is one of the least expected sight Harry Potter would see.

Blaise was leaning over Luna who was lying submissively under him on his mahogany desk in his small office. His left hand supporting his weight and his other hand was groping on whatever it was Harry did not want to know. Luna's blond locks was sprayed all over the desk like a nymph, her pink muggle blouse was unbuttoned showing more of her pale skin and her yellow undergarment. He'd bet that Blaise's hand was groping her-. _Merlin._ Harry chose to focus his attention on her radish earrings instead.

Both didn't seem to notice his entrance, as Blaise was so enthralled in kissing the life out of his girlfriend. Harry felt a blush crept up his cheeks, and fought a gulp down. _The image…. Merlin!_ He realized he'd had enough, and decided to let his presence known. He coughed.

Blaise jumped away from Luna hitting the nearby office lamp and a photo frame on the way. Luna gazed at Harry like she was not caught in such a state worth a scandal. She smiled. "Hello, Harry."

Harry suddenly found Blaise's shelf interesting. He kept on coughing.

"Merlin, don't you know how to knock, Potter?" Blaise angrily pointed his wand at Luna and fastened her buttons in small flicks. She tied her hair in a ponytail, and jumped off from the desk. _That sinful desk._

Luna brushed her skirt and tucked her blouse inside it. Blaise helped him smooth her blouse. In exchange, Luna brushed her hands on Blaise's hair and arranged it back to its decent state.

Harry gulped uncomfortably and remembered that time when Hermione kept his hair cared for when they were in their Horcrux hunt. Merlin, he missed her. He shook his head and watched the couple.

An odd couple indeed. Luna smiled at Blaise and placed a soft peck on his cheek. He bowed slightly to adjust to Luna's height. She whispered something that made Blaise smile and kiss her hand. Momentarily, he forgot his anger and found the display amusing. Who would have thought this Slytherin will fall in love with Luna, who, back in their Hogwarts days was the subject of their taunts and pranks? On the other hand, Harry cannot question Luna's choice. The girl was so optimistic that she always finds the good in others, even in the people who tormented her in Hogwarts.

"Having a good time watching us, Potter?" Blaise asked raising his brow. Harry shook his head.

"I guess I have to leave now. I have to go to Hogwarts and help Neville in the greenhouse. There are gnomes all over the plants. There's a new patent that lessens the activity of the gnomes, a pretty interesting concept from muggles." With that, Luna walked towards Harry and kissed him on the cheek. He patted him on his shoulder, and Harry stiffen. He certainly needs a good long hour under the cold shower. _That image was disturbing, okay._ It was like seeing your sister inside a boy's room, while the said boy was snogging the life out of her. _That's it._ He heard Luna left the room and closed the door.

"I'd love to see what's on your mind, Potter." Blaise snarled as he noticed the rigidness of Harry. Harry exhaled the breath he's been holding. Blaise looked like he was about to combust in anger, but decided to forget about it.

"Why did you remove your team from the investigation?" It's Harry's turn to snarl. Blaise sat on his chair as if not hearing Harry. This aggravated the Boy-who-lived more and walked angrily near Blaise's desk. "I believe I asked you a question, Zabini."

"I believe I heard you, Potter." He calmly answered, staring at Harry _in_ the eyes. "The Chief of the Investigation Department is hardly pleased with my team. I had to remove them from this case."

"Them?" Harry asked.

"Them, Potter. I will stay in this case, as much as I believe you loathe the fact." Blaise cockily gestured for a single couch opposite his desk. "Be my guest."

"And what do you have in mind, Zabini? Do you realize we have to start from scratch and you just bloodily dismissed your team? I didn't know you believe in yourself that much that you think you can do this alone!" He screamed, still standing.

Harry had learned a lot from the war, one of this is that if you want to be heard and impose power – you have to stand, so he refused giving up power, he refused sitting. A particular lesson he got from Hermione along with Mad-eye's constant reminder of "Constant Vigilance."

"Relax, Potter." Blaise said.

Suddenly, the door screeched open. An old woman came inside holding a tray of Tea with – Harry counted six cups? There were too many cups. The old woman, Criselda as indicated in her name plate put the tray on Blaise's desk a little too soundly. The cups shook. She muttered a 'you should remember that I am not your assistant' before leaving the room. Blaise gestured for Harry to take the couch again, but Harry stood his ground.

"Feel free." Blaise calmly poured tea on two cups. He pushed one in front of Harry.

"What are you playing at, Zabini?" Harry asked narrowing his eyes on Blaise. He's been calm, since Harry decided it was time to break the ice. It was like a calm before a storm, and Harry knew that the wizard was plotting something in his head.

"A tea party, Potter. Would you play with me?" The wizard chuckled. _He is bloody mad!_ Harry pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. "Relax, Potter."

"I don't have the ti-" He was about to burst when he heard the screech of the door again accompanied by a loud bickering.

"Ah. Here they are." Blaise stood staring across Harry.

"What? Who-" Harry turned around and there he saw an angry Ron and a chuckling Malfoy. Pulling them apart were Theodore Nott and Seamus Finnigan. _What in the bloody hell?_

"Here, Potter is my new team and surprise-surprise, it includes you!" Blaise delivered in a sing-song voice. _What the bloody hell?_

He immediately grabbed Zabini's collar and with his might he pulled the wizard off his feet. It didn't matter that the wizard is taller than him, but Harry just cannot accept this! He just cannot! He aimed his closed fist at Blaise's smug face. "What made you think-"

"Ah-huh. Potter, I don't think I would do that. Besides, it's not entirely my department's idea, but the Minister's." Harry lowered his fist and his hold of Blaise. "I believe you were all notified this morning."

This time, the objection came from Ron. "Harry! Is this real? I received a letter this morning." He asked. "I mean, I believe I left my job-"

"You did leave your job, Weasley, but according to Minister Shacklebolt and your prissy brother, I quote: Mr. Weasley is not a retired Auror. He may have left his post, but he is still an Auror." Blaise corrected. He walked back to his desk, this time, leaning on the fine mahogany piece.

Harry shook his head. The involvement of Seamus and Ron, he'd understand. Both of them were there when Blaise broke the news on Hermione's case, but why are the two Slytherins present here? He can't bloody team up with Malfoy and Nott! They cannot be trusted! He was certain that them being in a team will only result to blood shed or perhaps, a third wizarding war.

"And your two lackeys?" Harry pointed at the two smug Slytherins. The smug on Draco's face was immediately replaced by a scowl. Theo Nott was about to hold his arm firmly, when Draco raised his hand telling him to stop.

"First of all, Potter. We are not Blaise's lackeys. Unlike both of your friends here," he eyed the two Gryffindors. "we have brains."

Ron struggled out of Seamus's grip, but failed miserably.

"Oh, brains, Malfoy? Nott here, I believe he has. You? I'm not so sure. Maybe, you do have one, but your brain is deeply fried like your heart." Harry shot back.

"Ouch, Potter." Draco touched his chest, faking his pain. "Is your head aching now, because of the extreme effort you exerted in composing your comeback?"

"No, but your face will hurt, I swear if I-" Ron struggled, but Seamus was too strong. "Seamus, release me."

"Sounds very Gryffindor of you, Weasel." Draco said tapping his fingers on his chin. "If you punch me? I forgot how barbaric you could get.

"I doubt you could punch me any stronger than how Granger slapped me, that one did _hurt_. You? I don't think so." Draco mentioned. "I suddenly miss Granger. I wonder if she would get up, if I knock on her gr-" Harry noticed how Blaise's expression changed at Draco's mention of Hermione. He saw a spark of wonder, but it was immediately replaced by a mask of amusement.

Ron's eyes darkened. This time, Harry knew Ron would definitely punch Draco's face. _See this, Zabini? Too much for hoping that this team could be civil, if this is what you're plotting._ He helped Seamus pulling Ron away.

"Don't you mention her name. Don't you disrespect her! You hopeless, pathetic Death Eater."

At this, Harry knew things would get out of control. He tightened his grip on Ron, who continued to struggle. He could feel Draco being restrained as well. The blond was pushing him away from Ron, but someone pulled him from them. Harry turned to see that it was Theodore Nott restraining his friend. Blaise was just watching them, just watching… Malfoy.

 _Why isn't Zabini doing anything?_

"Enough!" Theo screamed. "I said enough!" He screamed louder. Both stopped from struggling. Both panting real hard.

Ron remained silent for a while. Harry and Seamus realized it was time to release him, and when Malfoy saw it, he managed to slip his arm from Theo. The ferret smoothed his sleeve as if Theo made a crease on it. He turned around to glare at his poor friend, who in return mouthed a slightly harsh 'watch it'.

"I agree with Theo. As much as I find this very, very, _very_ entertaining," Harry saw the short movement of Zabini's eyes to Draco. "We are not here to compete on who's better in composing insults.

"You are here at the Minister's orders. We are to form a new team for Hermione Granger's case." Zabini said. He walked back to his chair and took it comfortably. Seamus pushed Ron further in the left side of Zabini's office until they reach his bookshelf. On the otherhand, Theo pulled the still incensed Malfoy to sit in the chair originally offered to Harry. From his own spot in Zabini's office, he heard Malfoy say 'I am not a bloody child, Theo.'

When he saw that everyone seemed to drop their bickering, Harry turned to Blaise. "It is in my assumption that Ron and Seamus were chosen, because of my involvement and because they are aware of the latest progress in Mione's Case."

Blaise chuckled. "Woah. Potter. I was not informed of how little it is you find your friends. They were chosen simply because they are qualified, trustworthy and reliable."

Harry sneered. "Don't you think I know that? Maybe they are even more skilled than I am. I am not doubting Kingsley's choice of Ron and Seamus, but Merlin forgive me if I question the credibility of Nott and more importantly, Malfoy."

He heard someone thrust his fist on a wood. He didn't even bother to look back to know it was Malfoy. "I know they are your friends and they're loyal-"

"Are you questioning my professionality, Potter? Because if you do, I'll be glad to inform you that both were chosen not because they are my friends, but they are also as skillfull as Weasley and Finnigan. Theo, here, as you know works closely with Kingsley Shacklebolt. He can be our eyes and ears with the Ministry's opinions, he can immediately get legal permissions for investigations and is capable of doing all Ministry related tasks. Merlin, I even believe that this guy can take the Ministry off our backs in this investigation!

"And Draco here, was a trained cursebreaker. His skills could even get him to the Investigation Department, if not only for his mother's desire for him to just stay at home and learn to handle their family's businesses. We could use his skills to check the evidences, to make sure we are not missing anything anymore." Blaise sighed. "They were the minister's choice anyway, friends or not. I swear if one of them messes up, they'd wish they did not do anything."

It was like a knowledge buried in the depth of his mind and someone had pushed it back to the surface. Both Slytherins were on several trials during Hermione's passing and even after their trial Harry decided that both were not worthy of his attention. He was busy moping on Hermione's death that he did not pay attention to the lives of his former classmates. He could bet he had read it once or maybe heard it from some people and knew how Theodore Nott, reformed Death Eater was earning his way up to the Ministry and Draco Malfoy, the notorious young Death Eater and reformed at that was doing a great job in handling their family's properties.

"I'm sure they all have a choice, they would not want this. I am confident that Ron and Seamus will stand by me through this and accept the case." Harry heard Ron and Seamus voice out their agreement. "This is Hermione we are talking about, Zabini. We care about her, we need to know the truth, we need her justice. She is our friend. I hardly believe you would care for those things, if all you did was bring her suffering. Please don't justify for your friends, I need to know their choices and why."

"We're still human, Potter." He heard Theo say. He turned around and saw him leaning at the armrest of Draco's couch. "Whether we are her friends or not, we care because she is human too. Nobody deserves that, much as everyone in the war. I care for what she deserves.

"Plus, this case will do my credentials good." Theo shrugged. _Of course, you started at something convincing, but ends up sounding so conniving._

All eyes went to Draco next waiting for his answer. Harry could see how trapped Draco was, the guy felt the immense pressure of the stares directed to him. He would open his mouth and close it as if he's contemplating on what to say.

They were expecting something as meaningful as Theo's but-

"I chose to join this investigation group, because I don't like staying at home listening to my mother ramble about Astoria's horrible choice of flowers and how Astoria is spending our money buying things that are not needed in a wizard wedding. I also don't want to accompany Astoria shop for the upcoming nuptial." The blond said and all Harry could feel was remorse. So much remorse.

He expected Draco's lack of care, but he never expected his disrespect in this case. Clearly, he opted to join the team to get away from his problems and thought it would be a big escape goat. Harry laughed in disbelief of what he's hearing. _This man is impossible._ Oh, well. Who was he kidding? This is Draco Malfoy, maybe reformed, maybe repenting for his sins, but his views on muggleborns, much more on Hermione never changed. Why would this man care?

"I can't say your reason helped, Draco! Merlin, can't you even think of any acceptable reason in front of Granger's friends?" Blaise said frustratingly. He raked his fingers through his hair messing it up again completely.

"What would I say? Should I lie? You should know why I accepted this case in the first place. Blaise, you knew that girl is the bane of my existence, if I lie I'll just let her be even in death." Malfoy stood up and Theo seemed to give up restraining his friend. He flopped down the couch Malfoy vacated and inspected his nails. He ignored the exchange between his friends.

"See this, Zabini? These are the choices I was talking about. It's either you care or you don't. All I'm asking for are people who will take this case seriously like it matters, because it matters to some people, to _us_!" Harry said.

"Clearly, Malfoy doesn't give a fu-" Ron seethed.

"You know what? Fine." Malfoy raised both of his hands in surrender. "It's much easier this way: I don't have to justify my motives to Saint Potter. I don't bloody care anyway if Granger gets her justice. I don't even give a single fuck if she's still out there, which is impossible because she is already rotting wherever.

"And why don't you all just move on? I'm sure there are more ladies around than pining a fuck on a mudblood. Your delusions that this case is not yet over are merit-worthy. I'm done with this." Malfoy stalked to the door, attempting to leave. _The git!_

As if it was all in a bucket of water that came pouring down over Harry. All of the memories of Malfoy tormenting them, tormenting Hermione- calling her names, calling her mudblood came crashing and he could feel that the same thing was happening to Ron. His friend was already running to the blond git, but it seemed that the door won't budge. Malfoy continued to turn the knob around and speak the appropriate spells, but it just would not open.

He turned around to look at Blaise whose eyes were transfixed to the door. Zabini must be trapping his friend on purpose.

It was when a loud bang occurred that Harry diverted his attention to Ron who successfully reached Malfoy. Malfoy's head had hit the door and he was laying shaking at the fine emerald green carpet. Ron clutching his collar as he places multiple punches at the blonde.

"You-fucking-arsehole. She-should-have-not-defended-you. She-should-have-not-testified-for-you." Ron said all the while throwing punches at every word.

"Ron, stop!" Harry pleaded running to his friend and pulling him from the battered blond. "He's not worth it."

Blood was trailing down Malfoy's forehead and lips. Blond hair was stained crimson. His left eye started to swell. Despite of the damage Ron had inflicted, he still looked at them in his familiar vexing way. Malfoy sat up and spitted on the carpet, as he fixed them with a final taunting look. _Clearly, not worth it._ The blond stood up limply and walked out, shutting the door loudly.

Theodore Nott shrugged.

* * *

That was chaotic, Blaise concluded. It was a terrible headache-inducing meeting.

As it was, no one decided to leave his small office anymore after Draco's remarkable and infuriating exit- he'll make sure to badger Draco about his behavior. _That git never really grew up._ Hermione Granger's team is now composed of him, Potter, Finnigan, Weasley and Theo. At least, there was another Slytherin, someone to side him in arguments, a thing he assumed they will always have.

They were blessed of almost an hour of silence after that loud slam of the door that could almost alert the whole Ministry. Potter was pacing, Theo napped on the couch, Weasley staring blankly at the wall while Finnigan healed his broken fist. He just sat there watching everyone, waiting impatiently for someone to speak. No one did.

Until he decided to break the silence, offered them tea – which they all refused and told them of his plans with this new team. He filled them with a false tale on how they were all chosen, except how Minister Shacklebolt had his hand in picking Finnigan and Weasley.

Blaise was the one who picked Theodore Nott and Draco Malfoy. His choice was challenged by Robards and it took days to have the approval of the Wizengamot. He stood before them, justifying as to how both Ex-Death Eaters will be beneficial for the case. He focused on how they will be of use strategically. On the afternoon of May 19th, before he called it a day, he got the approval of the Wizengamot, but there are some conditions to be complied.

The new team will be given Six Months to finish the case, determine the culprit and gave them the appropriate sanctions; at the end of every month, they were required to fill the Ministry with updates regarding the case; everything should be legal and the investigation should be limited and bounded to the law; should the team fail to accomplish any of these will result to the case being dismissed without proper trials and investigation.

They were informed of these, right when Blaise broke the silence. He had a fair share of complains from Weasley, but Potter helped him in silencing his best mate with the 'At least we were given these.' Tirades. Weasley complied, after that.

He sighed and stared at the board covered with a plain white cloth- his private board.

"Nice to see you again, mate." He greeted and pulled the white cloth covering it.

After the capture of Mulciber and Avery, he thought his private board would finally get its rest soon. Funny how he thinks that if the board only has feelings, it will definitely whine in disappointment. Since the start of Hermione's case, his private board accompanied him. This was where he pins all the evidences, clips all the articles until he made a web of evidences and a map of possible culprits. Now, he had to unpin it all to give space for the new ones.

He whispered a charm and carefully plucked the pins with her hands. The pins flew all the way to a small wooden box and all the articles, photographs and evidences flew to the opposite side. They landed on a small brown carton box. Until the board was all clean of all marks, he casted a charm to label it again. On the top of the board it says: CASE 51893: THE MURDER OF HERMIONE GRANGER'S SECOND INVESTIGATION.

He pulled his marker from a nearby document filer, _Accio_ -ed the photograph of Mulciber and Avery from his previous investigation and pinned it at the topmost corner. Underneath it, he labeled: Mulciber – Memory charm from Avery, Avery – Memory charm from who?

He took one step back and examined his board, his board that has a duplicate in his small office in the Ministry. Anything he writes in it, anything he posts in it will definitely appear in its twin. Should he take the risk? _No. Not this time._ This board will only be for his use in this secret room in Zabini's family library. No one should know how he will take this investigation in his own hands secretly. _Anyone might be._

He whispered the appropriate enchantment to separate this board from its twin. Before he left the privacy of his secret Intelligence room.

An elf popped into his view as he reaches the living space of their library. "Master." It bowed in courtesy.

"Poppy." He greeted and flopped at the couch facing the fireplace.

"Poppy is here to inform Master of the continuous floo-calls we receive in the central floo. Should Poppy open this floo here, Master?"

"Of course, they wouldn't stop." He rubbed circles in his temple.

"Is Master having a hard time? Poppy will get a Pepper-up Potion. Master should wait-"

"No, Poppy." He sternly said and saw his personal elf shake. _What a nice way to dismiss an elf, Zabini._ He could practically hear Granger inside his head. "I mean it's alright, I don't need a Pepper-up Potion. Just don't open this floo, in fact just close all of it."

"Yes, Master." At that, the elf vanished in a small pop.

Blaise had been receiving several letters through owls and floo-calls from the time of his duty at the Ministry until he got home. He suspected that the Boy-Who-Lived was having a hard time ignoring the letters as well. Journalists had been pestering both heads of Hermione's case incessantly, when the Ministry announced that the investigations will not cease even after the capture of Mulciber and Avery.

The news of Blaise having all of his previous team members dismissed from the case did not help the aversion of the Journalist's courtesy. He silently thanked the Ministry and the Wizengamot for their discretion of Blaise's new team. Otherwise, it will cause them a lot more trouble than what it is. The Reporters and Journalists were comparable to the forest wolves hungry for flesh.

When he's at home, he just needed some quiet and peace, a thing that the Reporters and Journalists will never understand. He sighed.

"Silencio." He casted on resignation that he will attain such peace not relying on a spell.

He walked towards the marble desk of his mother, where he keeps an enchanted bottle of Odgen's Old Firewhiskey. It was enchanted to be small and refillable, a gift from Old Odgen himself. "When will Granger let me be at peace?" he complained chuckling.

He poured himself a glass of Firewhiskey, when he noticed that the second drawer of the desk was unlocked. He pulled it and to his surprise found Draco's book. _Must be, Poppy._ He thought.

Why Draco is not yet coming back to retrieve his book, Blaise has no idea. Certainly, after his display of childishness at his office, it would take time for him to show his face to Blaise. That's how his blond friend is. You can never really change a rich, spoiled, prejudiced prat overnight.

He traced the intricate title and name engraved on the hard cover. _Jane Grant. Grant, Grant. I'm sure I have heard of this before._ He shook his head and pulled the book out of the drawer. He opened it and purposely skipped the first two pages where the contents will be placed as well as the name of the publisher.

" _To My Northern Light, WM._ _"_

 _WM, must be initials of a lover._ He thought and proceeded to the next page.

 _ **PROLOGUE**_

 _ **The Institute**_

 _The darkness covered the entire Institute. It was ruined, devoured, devastated like they really meant to wipe it off our world. The sunlight that I used to watch from the small window of my room was never the same. It used to greet me a well morning, but it eventually changed to wishing me a safe night. The soft air that used to brush my cheeks with warmth was tainted with the distinct smell of rust on iron, the smell of dried blood. The lands that used to be filled with grasses was covered with thick suffocating dust, smoke and the wounded. This was not the Institute. It was an end. It only meant that._

He closed the book and placed it back inside the drawer. No, he definitely won't open it again. He doesn't like the picture being relived in his mind in every word it contains. He couldn't bring himself read the next page, when the first page already contained his monster. Blaise's monster, his memory of the war.

Why Draco owns one, he wasn't sure. He has known Draco since they were in their nappies, much like how he knows Theodore Nott. The Nott and Malfoy family are severely tied, because of their involvement with the Death Eaters and Voldemort, where Zabini family was tied with them, because of business and pureblood beliefs.

Maybe he wasn't always there for Draco when they were at school. Draco was pretty much surrounded by his useless lackeys all the time and he only got to watch out for his friends when Draco informed him of the personal task given to him by Voldemort and Theo's involvement with the Death Eaters because of his father.

Blaise never felt so scared to lose people in the war.

He stayed low, never siding with anyone until they were forcibly locked in the dungeons for not caring. That time, he decided to get involved and had chosen the winning side. He was worried for his friends, but at least If one of them survives in the good side, that _one_ can save _both_.

Then Blaise was there, pretty much involved himself in Investigations until he got an apprenticeship in the Investigations Department some days after the war. The Ministry was desperate for people, and Blaise jumped right into the opportunity. Hermione Granger died and he got the case immediately. What a big case for an apprentice. As the muggles would say: Desperate times call for desperate measures.

Blaise saved Theodore. Justified for him, contradicting evidences against him until the Wizengamot charged him of being guilty for the use of Unforgivable. That's just that. Theodore wasn't really evil, if you ask him. It wasn't hard with Theodore. What was hard was saving Draco. The man wouldn't speak, wouldn't want to relive his experiences as a Death Eater, all because it was horrifying. Draco Malfoy will be forever haunted by the experiences he had in the dark side of the war. He lived in the darkest and no good heroes would have the knowledge of.

So Blaise couldn't decipher why Draco would own such a book that will relive his nightmares. What was running inside his head? He'd give all his fortune just to know what was running inside his blond friend's head. Just a peek would do.

Is it healing? Is this his form of moving on? A book?

Blaise would definitely spend more time with his friend, even if it means to get into everyday argument with The-Boy-who-won't-fucking-die. He will bring Draco back to his team.

He immediately wrote a letter to Padma, Luna's friend and the current manager of Flourish and Blotts.

 _Dear Padma,_

 _A favor from an old friend. Do you still have a copy of Life Without Magic by Jane Grant? I would like to purchase one, if it is. I will drop by your shop on Saturday. Will bring Luna with me._

 _Sincerely,_

 _Blaise_

* * *

So it was a lengthy chapter. Sorry I haven't updated last week. I was arranging a wedding and to tell you honestly I've been editing the draft of this chapter for about four times. Haha. So tell me about it?

Thank you for your comments! I'd love to hear more from you!


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